


Acts of Service

by jollllly



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Acts of service love language, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bill takes care of Ted, Drunk Ted, Love Confessions, M/M, Ted needs help and some therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollllly/pseuds/jollllly
Summary: Ted's drunk. Bill decides to take care of him. (pre-relationship)
Relationships: Bill/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Acts of Service

**Author's Note:**

> anon requested "i love you" "tell me that when you're sober" with billted!
> 
> Warnings: alcoholism, drinking on the job, self-hatred  
> Please heed these warnings and be safe while reading! It's a soft ending, but I know these topics can be hard
> 
> let's get ted some therapy yo

“Hey, Ted, I was wondering if y--” Bill stopped as he took in the sight in front of him.

“Hey there, Billy boy,” Ted called toward the man in the door. He was lounging in his desk chair, feet propped up on his desk, a bottle of vodka perched on his lap.

Bill squinted at him from the doorframe. “Are you… drunk?”

Ted smiled, his glazed look made the answer even clearer than his response, “What do you think?”

“It’s four o’clock,” Bill countered, worriedly eyeing the office for any other containers of alcohol.

“S’never stopped me before,” Ted slurred, winking.

Bill sighed and walked further into his office. “Come on, man, we gotta get you home. You’re in no state to get anything more done today. And if Davidson catches you, you’re done for.”

Ted rolled his eyes dramatically, “Nah, old Ken would just wave it off. He’s a fucking idiot. Wouldn’t even be able to tell if I was breathing on him.”

“Okay, still, I’m gonna get you home, you need to rest.”

“Nah, dude, I’m fine! Look, just go on back to your desk or your daughter or whatever. I’m good. I’m just gonna chill right here and drown my sorrows until I pass out.”

Bill glared at the other man and snatched the bottle of vodka from the other man’s grasp.

“Hey!” Ted shouted, his motor functions too inhibited to quickly react in time.

“No, I’m taking this, and  _ you _ , home. Come on, start packing up. I’m gonna grab my stuff and make sure the coast is clear to get you out safely.”

Ted snorted and rolled his eyes, but stood anyways, swaying slightly with his head’s sudden change in elevation, and began shuffling around the papers on his desk.

Satisfied with Ted’s compliance, Bill shuffled out of the office and rushed to his cubicle, shielding the bottle of vodka from view as best he could. He quickly packed up, shoving the alcohol in his bag along with the rest of his belongings, saving and closing out of his documents, and shutting down his computer.

“Everything alright?” Paul asked, head cocked in concern at the other man’s rush.

“Yeah, just gotta leave a bit earlier than planned. Something came up.” Bill explained, shooting a smile at the other man to indicate that everything was okay.

“Okay. Well, have a good evening. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Paul,” Bill waved goodbye to his friend before he made his way up to Melissa’s desk, eyeing their boss’s office behind her. “Hey, Melissa. Is Davidson still here?”

“Hi, Bill! Yeah, he’s just finishing a few things up, but he’ll be leaving shortly. Why? Do you need to see him?”

Bill let out a small sigh, “No, no, it’s fine. I just, uh…,” he leaned in a bit closer to her. “Don’t tell anyone, but I need to take Ted home. He’s in no state to be working right now.”

“Oh! Is he sick?” Melissa whispered back. Her glasses fell down her nose as she leaned in, and she pushed them back into place.

“Yeah, something like that. I just wanted to get him out without having to explain much to anyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. If you want, I can go distract him now, ask a few questions to buy you some time out the door, just in case?”

Bill smiled graciously at the young woman, “That’d be great, thank you so much, Melissa.”

“Anytime!” She hopped up from her chair with a smile and grabbed her clipboard.

Bill returned to Ted’s office to see him roughly shoving papers into his bag. He rushed over to help save the documents from his abuse.

“Hey, hey, hey! Forcing them in like that isn’t gonna help. You’re just gonna crinkle them.”

“I don’t fucking care, Bill!” Ted rolled his eyes and took the papers back. He shoved them in once more. Bill winced at the sound of the papers being crumpled and folded every which way. Ted shouldered the bag. “Let’s go.”

Bill let out a breath, “Alright. Just don’t draw any attention to yourself on our way out. We don’t want rumors flying about you being drunk on the job.”

Ted stared dumbfounded at him. “Me? Not draw attention to myself? Bill, buddy, I  _ live _ on attention. You think me walking out of this office silently is going to draw less attention than if I shouted at the top of my lungs?” He raised his voice on his last phrase, and Bill glanced towards the open door apologetically, only to be met with none of their coworkers blinking an eye or even glancing in their direction.

Bill turned back to him and sighed once more, “Just act normal. Please.”

Ted snorted before following the other man out of the office. He was able to successfully close and lock his door, but he stumbled when he tried turning around, causing Bill to catch him by the elbow. The other man led him towards the door, heading in a straight line, careful not to let Ted slam into anything. Bill didn’t let him go until they were in the elevator down to street level.

“You don’t have to baby me, you know? I can call an Uber, it’s fine.”

Bill shook his head, “No, it’s not fine. I need to make sure you get home safe, and I really think this is an issue you need to be seeking help for. Besides, I’m not making you pay for a ride when I’m not doing anything else this evening.”

Ted snorted again, laughing at whatever rude thought must have crossed his mind. Bill ignored him.

“This way,” Bill walked them over to his Pacer and opened the passenger door for Ted to climb in. When he was situated, Bill made his way over to his side of the car. He clambered in and started the ignition. “Seatbelt on?” He asked, glancing over at Ted.

The man rolled his eyes once more and let out a dramatic sigh as he complied, “You’re so fucking boring, Bill. You’re not my mom, stop telling me what to do.”

Bill ignored his insults and steered them in the direction of Ted’s apartment. “Well excuse me for wanting to keep you safe. You may not care about your safety and well-being, but I do,” he light-heartedly countered.

Ted continued to chatter the entire ride home, drumming his fingers on his legs to an imaginary beat. Bill humored him. Ted was a chatty, yet belligerent, drunk. Bill probably should have seen that coming. With as much as Ted talked normally, Drunk Ted could talk Sober Ted’s ear off. And, Bill didn’t even know this was possible, but his already nearly-non-existent filter had completely dissipated. Needless to say, he didn’t hold anything back. It was a rough ride.

They arrived at Ted's building and began stumbling their way up the stairs to his apartment. The elevator was broken, of course, which only made the situation even harder for Bill, as Ted’s balance wasn’t great anymore, no matter how many times he protested that he could walk on his own. Still, Bill assisted him.

The two men made their way up four flights of stairs to get to Ted’s floor, and Ted handed Bill his keys to let them inside. Bill finally released the other man when they reached his couch. Ted sprawled out immediately.

“Alright, dude, ’m home safe and sound. Not leaving anytime soon. Besides, car’s at work, and no way am I walkin’ there, so,” he shot finger guns in Bill’s direction, “you are relieved of duty for the rest of the night.”

Bill shook his head, “No, I’m gonna stick around a little longer. Let me grab you a glass of water.”

Ted snorted at his kindness once again, “Billy bud, stop being so polite,” he yelled across the apartment as Bill walked into the kitchen area. “Go home to your kid or your house or your dog or anywhere without me. You don’t need to be here.”

“Ted, I really don’t mind,” Bill reappeared a moment later, glass of water in hand.

“No, you do,” Ted countered with a smirk, “No need to lie. I know you and everyone else fucking hates me. Besides, you act like I’ve never been drunk before. Go home, I’m fine.” Suddenly a glint appeared in Ted’s eye, “Unless you wanna have some _fun_.” He winked and raised his eyebrows suggestively, looking the other man up and down.

Bill flushed at the attention, but stood firm. “Ted, you’re drunk. No.”

Ted relaxed from his posturing and collapsed back into the cushion, “Fine, you’re no fun. But I get it. I’m sleazy and stupid and a fucking asshole. No wonder you hate me.”

Bill sighed and placed the glass on the coffee table, “Ted, I don’t hate you. But I am worried about you.”

“I’m fucking fine.”

“People who are ‘fine’ don’t get drunk in their office at 4pm.”

Ted groaned, having no retort to beat that, and leaned his head up against the back of the couch, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Maybe I’m not fine. Who cares? I’m a fucking asshole scumbag who can’t hold a partner and has nothing going for me except the lewd jokes I make for shock factor. May as well get drunk. You guys get some time away from me after work, I have to live with me.”

Ted let out a laugh as if he had just made a joke and stood, swaying slightly, before strolling over to the liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of bourbon.

Bill chased after him, not expecting this move from the other man, “Ted, please.”

He stopped, mid sip, straight from the bottle. Bill was staring directly at him; his large, kind, brown eyes worriedly looking into Ted’s. He lowered the bottle, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fine.”

He screwed the cap in place and slammed it back in the cabinet, closed the door, and made his way back over to the couch.

Bill cautiously followed him back towards the couch. “I am not gonna lie, I didn’t think that would work.”

For the first time since Bill entered his office, Ted was silent. He sat there, lounged against the cushion, staring into space. Bill stood there, awkwardly in the silence, before perching himself on the armchair.

“Sad eyes.”

“Huh?” Bill asked. He had gotten so used to the silence. Ted had nearly startled him.

“You have sad eyes. Everyone who looks at me has hateful eyes. But you have sad eyes.”

“...Oh.”

Bill didn’t know what to say. This tonal shift was completely unexpected. He’d never known Ted to be so introspective. This was completely new territory.

“You said you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t,” Bill reassured him.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you hate me? I’ve been nothing but rude to you. I’ve tried to force myself into your friendship with Paul since the beginning. I make fun of you and call you names. You can’t fucking not hate me. Even I hate me for all that.”

“Ted--”

“I push everyone else away, why are you so special, huh? Why can’t I fucking push you away too?” He was getting angrier.

“Ted, I care about you. Sure, you’re not the nicest, and I wouldn’t  _ not _ appreciate some slack every once in a while, but it’s clear that you’re not in a good place. And that’s not a time when you should be all alone.”

“I can’t even fucking get mad at that!” Ted yelled in frustration. To Bill’s surprise, tears began to gather in Ted’s eyes. “You fucking care, and I don’t deserve to be treated with kindness after how I treat you. I hate how nice you are; I hate that I treat you terribly. I hate that I can’t manage to keep you distant no matter how hard I try, and I hate that I love you!” These words, this list, exhausted Ted. He allowed himself a reprieve of yelling, took a deep breath, and tried to force the tears away from his eyes.

Bill was shocked. He sat there, staring at Ted, who didn’t seem to realize the weight of the words he had yelled at the other man. The confession, the declaration. His heart stopped.

“What?”

“I love you.” Ted repeated, gazing back at him with red eyes, disheveled hair, and a heaving chest.

Bill shook his head, “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

Ted mirrored him, “I won’t. I won’t tell you. I’m a fucking asshole, and you deserve better. I can’t handle the pity, the disgust, the rejection. Not sober. And that’s what I deserve anyway, rejection. I’m an asshole, and I can’t address my feelings, and I just push everyone away because I’m a fucking douchebag who can’t handle getting hurt. So instead I hurt everyone else.” Ted leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head down. Bill guessed that he was crying despite the wry smile he could hear on the other man's face. “I’m a fucking mess. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

“Yes, you do,” Bill spoke up. “You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to make meaningful connections with people without being afraid of getting hurt.”

Ted shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He kept his head down and continued to look at the floor.

“Ted… I really think you need to get help for this.” No answer came, so Bill continued, “I know you say you’re fine, but we both know that isn’t true.” He took a deep breath, “And I will still be waiting for sober confirmation,” he cleared his throat softly and continued, “but I think it could be worth a shot. I far-from-hate you. But, nothing will officially move forward on that subject until you are in a better place. That means a sober conversation.”

This took Ted by surprise enough to get him to lift his head. He swayed for a moment as the quick motion was briefly too much for him to handle, but he looked into Bill’s eyes again.

“You--"

“I care about you, yes. And I want to see you get better. And I am very open to seeing where this goes.”

Suddenly Bill was enveloped by Ted. He folded around him in a hug. It was stiff, awkward, but it was good despite that. It was full of care, full of an acknowledgment of the love between people, a connection through hard times. There were no words Ted could have used, nothing to accurately express what he was feeling. The hug said it all.

They pulled apart. Bill could see that Ted had allowed himself to cry, and he was wiping away the tears as their eyes met once more. A swell of affection moved through Bill’s heart at the sight.

“Do you wanna come to my place tonight? No ulterior motive!” Bill nervously rushed out, “I just was gonna cook dinner, and it’s always nice to have some company. Also, I saw that you don’t have much in your fridge at the moment, and you should get some food in you.” He awkwardly stumbled through his explanation, “I have a guest bedroom all for you if you want, so you don’t even have to worry about sleeping on a couch! And that way you’re not stranded without a car tomorrow…?” He laughed nervously as he trailed off, waiting for a response.

Ted moved forward once more and kissed him softly on the cheek, alleviating the stress evident on Bill’s face, “I would love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little rushed towards the end bc inspiration disappeared but i hope it wasn’t too disappointing agfksgkj
> 
> find me on tumblr @ billtedrights


End file.
